12 February 2013

Frightened Rabbit - Pedestrian Verse review

I've had this review
practically written for a few weeks now, but I decided to hold off on
its conclusion. Normally when I'm doing the 62 Word Reviews here on
Peenko, I only get time for a few listens of each track before
writing the review. I feel on occasion that, upon having a quick look
back at some reviews, I've been far too generous with my praise.
Something has maybe happened to catch me in the right mood. I've then
soaked it in a golden shower of hyperbole and published the review
before realising that while it might be good, it's not exactly going
to change the world. So, rather than rushing out after listening to
Pedestrian Verse two or three times and declaring it was the best
thing Frightened Rabbit have ever written (because this is what I
initially thought), I wanted to let it consume me a little, let the
words seep in and ingrain themselves on my mind.

Scott Hutchison, it
seems, was setting himself a challenge with this one, as 'Pedestrian
Verse' is a rather brave title for a fourth album. Write some
slightly sub-par songs and a publication such as the NME would surely
use it to savage you. (Incidentally, the NME's review of this album
was positive. To save you the bother of reading it, here's a short
summation: this band aren't Coldplay. 8/10). Hutchison has obviously
used this to drive himself to write the best he possibly can. He has
always written very personal songs. It's one of the reasons The
Midnight Organ Fight is one of my favourite albums. It was so honest
and raw: one man's utter heartbreak and the subsequent emotional
fallout from a messy split, laid bare and committed to tape. There
was no glossing over his own faults, no rom-com ending where everyone
kissed and made up. When they arrived at The Winter Of Mixed Drinks,
things were different. The personal stuff was there but with
Frightened Rabbit looking increasingly likely to be the 'next big
thing', Hutchison's writing was slightly more guarded and cryptic,
presumably to protect either himself or those he was writing about.
That's understandable, and I don't feel this approach detracted from
the quality of the songwriting. In fact, songs such as Things and
Skip The Youth are among the best material he's ever written.
However, its cluttered production pulled a veil across the lyrics,
simultaneously pushing the listener away. Part of The Midnight Organ
Fight's magic was its intimacy:
its naked production meant it often sounded like the band were right
beside you. The Winter Of Mixed Drinks, sadly, sounded like they were
playing in a barn at the other side of the field, its sentiment
diluted and washed out in an ocean of reverb.

The
production on Pedestrian Verse bridges the gap perfectly between the
two. The songs sound big enough to fill an arena, but taut and
reined-in just enough to reclaim much of that intimacy lacking on The
Winter Of Mixed Drinks. Producer Leo Abrahams has obviously felt that
Hutchison's vocals should once again be the focal point so these are
pushed high in the mix and augmented with some subtle yet very
effective backing vocals. His vocals themselves have tonnes of
character, bright and lively, enunciated purposefully, using (and I
apologise if I'm straying too far into studio jargon territory now,
but this word is pretty self-explanatory...) only minimal de-essing.
Totally different from that dull, deadened sound that stripped much
of the character from his voice on the previous album. Musically,
everything sounds tight with no superfluous instrumentation. Every
wee note and every hit of percussion is in its right place. Grant
Hutchison's drums have never sounded better (and they sound
particularly good on album closer The Oil Slick). The incorporation
of the rest of the band into the songwriting process appears to have
refreshed Frightened Rabbit. There's a bit more grit about them (as
evidenced on Holy and the slightly mathy December's Traditions), but
the pop sensibilities remain – maybe we're seeing the influence of
former Make Model member Gordon Skene there? Delve a little further
past those pop sensibilities however and you'll find that, lyrically,
Pedestrian Verse may just be Frightened Rabbit's darkest outing yet.

A major lyrical theme
of Pedestrian Verse appears to be one of trying to come to terms with
the seemingly perpetual recurrence of depression. It's all too
apparent on single The Woodpile where, beneath the major key bombast,
the shout-till-your-chest-bursts chorus and driving bass lie the
anguished lines, “bereft of all social charms, struck dumb by the
hand of fear, I fall into the corner's arms, same way that I've done
for years, I'm trapped in a collapsing building”. Then there's the
resigned “don't care if I'm lonely, 'cause it feels like home” in
the powerful, pounding Holy. It seems that when Hutchison feels he
might just be getting somewhere, he is dragged back into misery by
his own body (the 'collapsing building'). The depth of this misery is
evident in Dead Now, a bright and jaunty stomp where the line “I'm
dead now, you can hear the relief, as life's belligerent symphonies
finally cease” yearns for some comfort, away from the
“devil...living inside of me”.

It can be pretty heavy
stuff at times, despite the fact that the music itself is actually
fairly bright and cheery by Frightened Rabbit's standards. This is
something Hutchison acknowledges on Nitrous Gas with the lines “suck
in the bright red major key, spit out the blue minor misery”.
There's something of an explanation for this is on album closer Oil
Slick, where Hutchison sings “I went looking for a song for you,
something soft and patient to reflect its muse, I took a walk with
all my brightest thoughts, but the weather soon turned and they all
ran off”. Once again, he is longing for some relief from it all but
finds he can't be lifted out of that mental state that easily, and
that the 'oil slick' of dark thoughts don't ever seem to leave him
for long. However, they end the album on a rather more buoyant note:
“I've got hope so I think I'll be fine, in these disastrous times,
disastrous times”. To put it flippantly, here's the acceptance that
he's a miserable bastard but that he holds out hope that things might
one day be better.

Pedestrian Verse is a
harrowing listen at times, yet it's utterly fantastic from start to
finish. Hutchison's lyrics have never been sharper. For example, the
description of violence in Acts Of Man has imagery so vivid you can
practically smell the Paco Rabanne 1 Million in amongst the blood.
Hutchison is a truly gifted songwriter, dealing with what is common
subject matter for songwriters the world over in a way which is never
maudlin, and never using throwaway filler lines or cliché.
Musically, they've got the balance just right for their first release
on a major: the songs are a fairly eclectic mix, just about weird
enough to retain credibility with the hipsters but straight enough to
pass as something a bit more mainstream. This is their most
accomplished album, a piece of work crafted by masterful hands. So is
it the best thing Frightened Rabbit have ever written? Aye. I'd say
so, anyway.